In War, there are no unwounded soldiers
by Titania Le Fey
Summary: Snake gets a cruel lesson in Russian guerrilla tactics while on a mission in Eastern Russia.
1. In War, there are no unwounded soldiers

Plissken stood watch in the doorway while the others set up a base camp in the abandon building. The day had been uneventful as was any sweep of towns the Russians up and left. It only took a moment for Snake to recognize the sound of tears, not just tears, the sobs of a child. Plissken peered around the corner, gun at the ready. There was a boy wandering the streets, four maybe five if Snake had to hazard a guess. He was stripped bare in the blowing snow.

The place was deserted. Plissken took a second to take in the roads in all directions, empty. Slowly he stepped out of hiding and the boy froze in place shivering.

"Where are your parents?" Snake called in Russian still watching the scene suspiciously. There was no answer only more balling. Plissken glanced at the doorway where he had been watching Taylor who was looking at the boy in the road.

A lot of lesser men would have left the child on principle. Why save a child that will grow up to shoot at you? Snake had other views of war; none of them included children as enemies. Plissken lowered his rifle and cautiously closed the distance that stood between him and the Russian boy.

Plissken kneeled watching the road but not as carefully. He had heard the crunching snow behind. His squad was out or at least Taylor. Tentatively, Snake touched the boy's shoulder. It brought an instant reaction as the boy latched on to him. Big, blue eyes full of tears met his pleading for comfort. He could see it there in the scared child. Instinct came through as gentleness when Snake wrapped his free arm around the child.

"He's wired!"

Snake looked at Sam with a peculiar expression. "He's fucking nake…"

Plissken's words trailed off as his hand felt sticky blood seeping through his gloves. His hand pressed gently feeling the small box under the skin. Of all the things to do. Hate of the Russians flared to a fever pitch in Plissken's mind.

"Bradley! Bradley!" Snake scooped the child up and ran for the door still calling for his medic.

"Plissken you can't." Sam was on his heels yelling about bombs. Snake ignored him.

Bradley looked between the two men and the child. "Shit!"

"Get your kit." Plissken demanded laying the child down on the floor. His medic was already there pulling scissors out to cut the blood caked threads.

"Cooper." Snake called but the kid was already sliding in next to him. "He's wired."

Cooper was young but Plissken knew he surpassed everyone's knowledge when it came to explosives. Bradley opened the wound and extracted the black box from the boy's back. Plissken felt a knot tighten in his stomach as blood coagulated and dripped from the metal.

"There's a wire passing inside. I'll have to remove…"

"No!" Cooper's voice was nearly a squeak of terror. "It's rigged."

"Rigged for what?" Plissken forced the words past his growing desire to wretch.

Cooper touched the wire. "Bio-electrical. When his heart beat stops." Snake and Cooper exchanged worried glances. "We have to disarm it still attached."

"He's bleeding fast. You better have a miracle." Bradley added trying to staunch the blood flow.

"We need light." No sooner had the words came than a glare of magnesium illuminated the area in a phosphorescent haze. Plissken held the bomb while Bradley spread out his kit. Fear of explosion coupled with the blood running over his fingers did a number on Plissken's senses. He had to block it all out. Only the sobs managed to break through.

He kept his eyes focused on the gentle touch Cooper employed to dismantle the rig. Snake tried to memorize the sequence of movements to distract his mind.

"We're going to lose him if you don't hurry." Bradley's voice was desperate.

"Almost there." Cooper yanked a wire, tensed and then Plissken watched the stress drain away. "Done."

Bradley threw himself into mending the boy. Plissken couldn't endure anymore of the blood soaked, naked boy or pasty glow of the flare.

"I'll keep watch." Snake didn't wait for confirmation. He didn't need it but some part of his psyche needed some affirmation. All that he had was the knowledge that he had done the right thing.

Plissken leaned his rifle in the doorway beside his leg absently peeling the rapidly freezing blood from his hands. What he had done was foolish, endangered his squadron. It left Snake full of doubts. He knew it was the right thing to do even if the risks were questionable. What was he going to do with this kid now? Snake had no answers for the questions that taunted him. He leaned his head back trying to clear his mind of the past few minutes.

He wasn't sure how long he had stood in the doorway watching the empty streets when the door beside him opened. It had to be a few hours because the sun had crept down behind the buildings.

"How is he?" Plissken asked without taking his eyes off the reddish light streaming across the tops of the buildings. The silence that followed brought Plissken's attention to Bradley. The man's head was bowed as he neurotically wiped his hands. Plissken didn't need and answer. Snake stared out toward where the snow was still scuffed from him kneeling beside the boy.

"Bury him." It was all Plissken could manage to say. Pain, anger flared red hot in Plissken's boy. He felt betrayed and imagined the Russians did this to him on purpose.

"The ground's frozen sir we can't." Bradley's voice wavered.

"Bury him." Plissken grabbed a handful of his medic's coat. "Get some of the rubble and bury him."

Bradley nodded trying to back away. Suddenly, Plissken released him and turned away to stare into the growing dark. All that work, all that risk, for what? All they had done was make another body to bury. Snake could still feel the boy's scared, weak grasp. It was too much. Plissken was past crying or remorse. There was just a black mar on his soul that hadn't existed this morning.

He had seen many people die most of them died at his own hands but never a child. Snake hadn't even imagined a child dying. Part of him was glad that he hadn't seen the Russian boy's last breath. At the same time he felt a gnawing guilt that he wasn't there to hold him when that moment came. Snake couldn't shake the memories.

"You did the right thing." The soft touch on his hand did little for his mind.

"Snake. He would have died anyway. You gave him a chance he would have never had." Sophia was trying her best but Plissken's eyes were riveted on the body Taylor was carrying toward the opposing buildings. He could already hear Bradley's voice in solemn tones reading something that should never be read over a child. Nothing could make this better.  



	2. One Death Among Many

Ella stood in the doorway quietly watching her boy on the couch. He had been sitting there since she'd come home. He hadn't spoke or moved but stared blankly at the brick fireplace. She knew something had gone wrong on one of his missions. He had only ever spoken of three that had gone very well but she assumed there were bad with the good. That was the way of the world. Call it mother's instinct but there was dullness to his eyes. They weren't quite as blue and they lacked all the cheer she was used to seeing.

Slowly she walked in to sit next to him. He didn't even acknowledge her presence. That worried her more about his condition. His father had spent days like this after returning from Vietnam but Ella had assumed it was a side effect of his injury. Now she doubted that assumption because her son wasn't physically wounded.

"Steven?" She questioned and laid her hand on his shoulder. Her son remained in his torpor.

"Steven, please." She begged him this time because her heart was breaking to see her only boy so lost to her.

His eyes slowly turned to met hers and she saw something she had never seen before. Guilt, pain, uncertainty, doubts; none of those things were there the last time he had been home. The red rings and bloodshot quality of his eyes told her he had cried earlier. The last she could remember Steven crying was as a boy when Grandpa Plissken had died eleven years ago. Through all of his accidents and fights he'd never cried. She wondered what had caused them now.

"Do you want to talk?" She asked gently as she ran her hand over his back. He shook his head no and she was ready to let it rest when he nodded yes. He was obviously not quite ready to speak. She knew that from his reaction. She smiled only to reassure him some.

"Why don't I go make us some drinks and when you're ready to talk you can come out to the kitchen and join me."

Steven nodded before looking down at his hands. Ella kissed his forehead and left him to his thoughts. He had always come to her in the past when he was upset and she knew he would now. At the same time she was aware that pushing too hard would only close him farther inside. His father shared the same reaction.

Ella left and put on some milk to make cocoa. It made her smile as she stirred the milk in the pan. For all his toughness and military prowess her boy was still a child in his love for sweets. His footsteps hit the tile, military boots had a telltale thud to them and she poured out the cocoa making sure to load her son's with the generous portion of star shaped marshmallows. Even as an adult he still loved the multicolored stars, even if it was their secret. Retrieving a spoon she set the mug down in front of her son and took the seat next to him at the kitchen table.

She saw just the vague hint of a smile when he finally looked at the cup.

"Thanks mom."

They were the first words he'd said all day. Stretching out her hand she took his and felt the strong squeeze. Ella said nothing as he spooned the marshmallows from the cocoa simply held his hand so he would know she was there for him. He finished the whole cup before speaking.

"I don't know if I want to go back." He spoke so softly that Ella had to strain to hear. His words were a shock but she kept her own emotions out of it.

"Why? I thought you enjoyed the service."

"I…" No words came but she saw the tears dripping on the table. Standing she slipped her arm around him and he instantly turned to lay his head on her stomach. He was so much like a child at that moment instead of the man she had driven to the airport three months earlier.

"Shhh. What is it Steven?" She was gentle with him and stroked his cropped hair.

"I hate the Russians!"

His arms pulled tight around her waist but the anger was more obvious in his voice.

"Isn't that how everyone feels about their enemies?"

Steven's head shook no against her and she wondered what he was thinking. It only took a moment before he started to talk.

"They sent one of their own kids. Rigged the boy with explosives and sent him to die." He broke off from a choked sob and then continued. "I tried! I tried to keep him alive but I fucked up!"

Suddenly Ella was painfully aware of his situation. She had heard similar things from his father though usually only when he cried during the night in his sleep. It took her some time to find the words to comfort him.

"You tried to save him and that is an admirable thing." It was the best she could do.

"It don't fucking matter!" He let her go and turned away. "I'm the reason he died. If I wasn't…"

Ella patiently sat once more beside her son. "Steven, do you think that boy would have been treated any differently if someone else had been sent on that mission besides you?"

She watched her boy's eyes fill with anger when he looked at her. She knew it wasn't her. She knew what the memories of war did to a man. It was only compiled by the fact it was witnessed by a man like her son, one who put so much value on family. Ella knew the pain he felt inside even if she could hardly imagine the horror he had suffered.

"The enemy does things to break its adversary. When they can't do it by valiant means they turn to such tactics. It can't be helped."

"It's bullshit!" He declared.

"It very well is." Ella acknowledged as she took his hand again. "Without brave men and women to stop those who would treat their own so harshly how will it ever stop?"

His expression changed. To Ella's relief she felt as though she had broke through whatever self hatred he had been harboring.

"I also know you do not hate all the Russians." Ella added it with a smile remembering the young woman who had come with them on the last visit. Her son was very fond of the attractive girl even if he denied it.

Steven's head dipped and a broad smile came through with a pink tinge to his cheeks. His hand tightened on hers.

"I can't forget it." Steven commented with a fading smile.

"Sometimes we can't. Sometimes it's good to remember so we know what it is we are truly fighting for."

Her son nodded and she could see the weight lifting off of him. It was a relief though she knew this would mean nights of bad dreams while he was home. At least now Ella was prepared.

"Can I get some more cocoa?" He asked it with a spark of enthusiasm.

Ella smiled and took his mug. "Of course."

She turned away and let down her façade to reveal for a moment the pain she felt for her boy. He should never have to experience that sort of pain but he was fighting for what was right, like his father he admired so much. It was his decision. The melancholy slipped away when she saw the car pull up outside. Robert was home and as she watched her husband stride to her house she realized what a strong man this would make her boy.


End file.
